


Promise

by FoxNote



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Drabble, Fluff, M/M, No Beta, Sex, artsy written sex because I got carried away
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-11
Updated: 2016-06-11
Packaged: 2018-07-14 10:03:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7166675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FoxNote/pseuds/FoxNote
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A night of passion. Three years of regret. Drunken forgiveness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Promise

It was hot. Inside he felt as if he were ablaze, skin shining with sweat. His body arched in pleasure as his mind fought with pain. There were hands, hot hands over his body. Caressing, holding, careful, bruising, clawing and desperate. His mind told him to push away and his body pulled him closer to the heat above him. All he wanted was to get lost, lost in that heat, that passion. He clawed at the muscled back, trying to gain purchase as he lost more of himself to the blaze inside him. Anger and pleasure. Pain and comfort. It was all too intense but he could not stop. He needed this. 

He felt as the hands pulled his body against the one above him. Taunt muscles against his toned and slender torso, flexing with every thrust, each one taking away his breath. The noises, by the Maker the noises in his ears. Skin on skin, hot and laboured breath, dare he even recognise the sounds coming from his own mouth. The soft whispers from the man above, grounding him, heard above the screams of agony in his mind and the beating of his heart. 

“Fenris-“ his name on the man’s breath. “I’m close-“

It was all he could do to nod, a coil ready to snap inside his abdomen. He choked on a cry as he finally unravelled in the man’s embrace. Liquid fire joined the blaze inside him, a low moan filling his ears. 

“Hawke…” he whispered softly. 

Strong arms held him close as the quiet voice whispered, “Hush… sleep…” and he did.   
\--  
That was the night, three years ago. The night Fenris had walked out on the love of his life. What a stupid move. What a selfish act. Neither benefited from it. Now he was watching as the mage started taking the man from his life. He had hurt Hawke, he knew that. He also knew that Hawke deserved better than the petty and childish elf that he was, yet it filled him with such anger to see them close. To watch as their hands brushed together, or when they stood ever so close as they talked. 

What made it worse was when the mage would confront him about it. Hawke had told him. Of course Hawke had told him. Now came the insults, the jeers and jabs. Selfish. Heartless. Nothing but a rabid dog. Not worthy enough of Hawke’s attention. Fenris would not admit how deep the daggers cut in his heart, not even to himself. They were wounds self-inflicted many times over, only reopened by the mage and burned deeper in his ire. 

It was not long before Fenris started refusing to leave the house. He had once promised Hawke that he would remain at his side, but the mage made that near impossible. The constant reminders of his mistake plagued him, even when he was alone. Some late nights, when he would see Hawke returning home across the street from wherever he had been, Fenris would hope that he would turn around. Come to him. Hold him like he had that night three years ago. He would lay in bed and try to recall the feeling of that heat but it was dull and dying. 

\--  
Then there was a knock at his door. Heavy and slow. A drunken voice called out his name. “Fenris… please talk to me.” It was like the whimper of a cold and lonely dog.   
There was a moment’s hesitation in Fenris’ step as he made it to the door. This was the night he had hoped for so many times but he did not know if he was ready. However, the voice came again, begging for him to open up. Let him in. So he did. 

The moment the door opened he was embraced by the hulking mass of the man, nearly knocking him off balance. The reek of ale wafted off of him. He muttered apologies as he cried into the elf’s shoulder. Fenris did not respond. 

Without picking him up Fenris closed the door and moved them back to his room, dragging the man along with little effort. The blubbering mess refused to let go, not even to get comfortable, and for a while Fenris sat on the bed with Hawke partially on his lap but mostly on the floor. When he finally managed to pick himself up, the mage’s face was puffy, red and shone with tears and mucus. A stern hand wiped away the mess with the far corner of a sheet, attempting to ignore how Hawke nuzzled into it. It did not work. 

Slowly Fenris felt the curtains pulling back, letting out the hurt and anger. His hands let go of the sheet and cupped the stubbled cheek. The gentle giant leaned into his cool touch, bringing his hand to hold it there firmly, scared it would leave. More curtains pulled away, letting out the jealousy and fear, until all that was left was the love he felt for the man. 

He leaned in slow and placed a gentle kiss on his lips.

“Tell me why…” came a fearful whisper, surly not from the man in front of him. 

“I was scared… I thought it would be better if you hated me… I was wrong. I can’t stop thinking about you Hawke…” Fenris could not stop his voice. “You’ve given me so much. You cared and tried to understand. And I threw it in your face. I thought I could move on… but I can’t stop thinking about you. You gave me hope and I realise now, that if there is a future for me, I want to walk into it by your side Hawke… I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to see…”

A smile spread across the worn face of his love. “I understand Fenris… I think I’ve always understood…” With that he kissed him with a promise. A promise to remain at his side no matter what.

**Author's Note:**

> WHA! I'm trying to get back into writing! Why is this so hard now?! *flails wildly*


End file.
